


are we Jerkin?

by Anonymous



Category: tumblr rpf
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Gen, I don't know if I can be proud of this, Platonic Soulmates, Psychic!Flaminganakin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 02:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tumblr users Jerseydevious and Flaminganakin were joking about their ship name. I got carried away and ended up writing a fic about two people who are friends on the internet.(This is 100% not-serious; the only lives I get seriously involved in and write serious fanfiction about are the lives of fictional characters.)





	are we Jerkin?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jerseydevious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jerseydevious/gifts), [jilyandbambi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilyandbambi/gifts).



She’d never had any illusions that this would be easy.

When she had left, she’d been fully prepared to spend weeks, maybe even months, searching. She’d packed everything she could need, and a few things she probably wouldn’t but were good to have just in case. She’d said an emotional farewell to her friends and family, promising to be safe, that she’d communicate with them regularly, and that she would see them soon. She had hit the road with determination, the pink light of dawn stretching out before her to light the way.

That had been a month and nine days ago. Her determination hadn’t faded in the least, but her patience was starting to.

For what felt like the millionth time, she looked into the future. She focused inward and searched for the same thing she had searched for a month and twelve days ago: the next good thing that would happen to her.

She didn’t normally look into her future for such things - she could end up spoiling a surprise for herself! - but she’d had a string of difficult days and needed a little pick-me-up. She had expected to see something simple; maybe she would eat a really nice sandwich tomorrow, or she would pet a cute animal, or Arnold the town shuckster would run up to her and announce that all those years of him jokingly rubbing her head for good luck had paid off and he’d finally won the lottery and decided to share half the money with her.

Instead, she’d gotten the vision she saw now, as she reviewed it once again (like there was something she had somehow missed seeing the first billion times).

She was inside a small info-hub. She was standing in the fiction lane. She was speaking with a stranger. The stranger was, for some reason, very important to her.

That was literally it.

There was nothing particularly special about it, aside from the fact that every time she came out of the vision, she immediately forgot what the stranger looked like. She would try to remember, without actually re-living the vision, but while every other detail was crystal clear in her mind, the stranger was blurred out; obscured somehow. It was really fucking annoying.

She hated it when this happened; she would look into the future or past, and she would see what she was looking for, no problem. She would then be unpleasantly surprised, when she resurfaced in the present, to find that important details of the vision were missing from her memory. It made no sense, but it was a common experience among precognitives. It was like the universe itself was meddling with her gift, just to make things difficult.

People who said psychics had it easy didn't know shit.

She was riding her dasherbike - slightly used but in perfect condition, hovered like a dream, she'd sold a 200,000-word mystery story for it - slowly through the town she'd come upon. She’d lost track of how many places she'd been to, searching for the info-hub from her vision, but this was far from the first and she didn't hold much hope that it would be the last. AniJersey was a huge territory; flat plains, mostly, but there were hills in some parts, and the occasional patches of forest. Many people called it a wasteland, though it was far from underpopulated. It was the vast distances between towns, and the dangerous criminals that supposedly roamed within the empty spaces, that gave AniJersey its unfriendly reputation.

Her family had been surprised when she'd told them she was going to come here.  _ Why would you want to go to AniJersey? _ they'd asked, bewildered.  _ There's nothing out there but info-hubs and fighter schools. And it’s not safe at all! _

(She was beginning to think the rumors of vicious, feral bandits were exaggeration; the only people she’d seen between towns were traveling performance groups, isolated homesteaders, and an elderly lesbian couple who were either jewel thieves or on a religious pilgrimage. But then again, she was still working the edges of AniJersey, not terribly far from the border. The middle was said to be the most dangerous part.)

Confused as her family was at first, though, understanding had dawned on their faces as soon as she said the word ‘vision.’ She often took it for granted, but her family’s unquestioning acceptance of her psychic ability meant more to her than she could ever say.

She was the first psychic in her family, at least as far as anyone knew. When she had begun to display precognizance, and mention seeing past and future events in her dreams, her parents had taken her to a small testing center a couple of cities over. She didn’t remember much of it - though of course, if she wanted to, she could look into the past and see it easily - but apparently the ‘test’ was just putting the possibly-psychic child in a room with adult psychic and asking them to describe their experiences to them.

That hadn’t needed to happen with her, though. Because according to the records, she had greeted the other psychic - the first other psychic she had ever met - by excitedly saying ‘hello,’ very telepathically and very loudly. It seemed that she had immediately recognized the presence of another mind like hers, and had reached out to it instinctively.

That had pretty much been all the confirmation anyone needed. The psychics who ran the testing center had spoken with her parents, telling them that raising a psychic child would be different than raising a non-psychic one, but that she would need no less love and attention and encouragement as she and her abilities grew. They gave them a dozen or so pamphlets, recommended a few different resources, wished them well and sent them on their way with an info-access pass for each of them.

They had put those passes to good use for the first couple of years, though they used them less and less as time went on. Having a card that said you were legally entitled to free information about a subject - in her case, psychic studies, psychic history, and psychic health - without having to purchase or trade for it was definitely a huge help, especially in the beginning. But eventually, they stopped having as much need for it.

So her family had listened to her describe the vision, the confusing but undeniable importance of the stranger she saw herself speaking to, and her utter certainty that she would find both the stranger and answers in AniJersey. They helped her pack for the journey, hugged her tightly, and waved goodbye as she sped off until she could no longer see them when she turned to look.

It had been a month and nine days. She loved them, and missed them, so much.

She pulled herself out of her thoughts when she spotted a sign for an info-hub. In bold, gold letters it read:

CLASS D INFO-HUB, NEXT RIGHT

Under that, slightly smaller, it said:

ALL FICTION LANE ITEMS 50% OFF, THIS WEEK ONLY

Her heart leaped and began to race. Fiction lane! Could this be the info-hub from her vision? Was this, quite literally, a sign that she had come to the right place at last?

She pulled into the vehicle lot quickly, so wrapped up in hope and apprehension that she almost set her dusterbike down in a disability spot. After finding another place, she locked up her bike and practically ran inside, heading straight the seventh quadrant, where the fiction lane in class D info-hubs always were.

Would this be the one?

**Author's Note:**

> A note to Jerseydevious and Flaminganakin: of any of this makes you uncomfortable, please tell me, and I will make any necessary changes or delete the work entirely.


End file.
